


A Different Kind Of Sunlight

by theprincessed



Series: Love, Sex and Magic: Random Ficlets [8]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Lovebites, M/M, Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-09
Updated: 2013-05-09
Packaged: 2017-12-10 22:45:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired loosely by Louis climbing that hill/grassy bank thing near the arena in Paris with a fabricated reason as to why. Harry comes to find him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind Of Sunlight

“Oh, there you are.”

Louis cracks an eye open to look briefly at Harry hovering over him. “Here I am.”

“What’re you doing up here by yourself?”

A little resigned, Louis opens both eyes this time and raises his head from the grassy bank he’s currently reclining on. Lying flat makes him disappear between the sparse concrete that otherwise surrounds him. “Workin’ on me tan.”

Harry snorts. “You just came back from holiday!”

“What is this, Haz? Twenty questions?” Louis teases, “Just admit that you missed me and needed to come find me.”

“You’re not as stealth as you like to think you are.” He sits down beside him with a relieved breath, bringing his knees closer to his chest. “You don’t need work on your tan, by the way. It’s a ridiculous idea.”

Louis shrugs minutely. “I’m a ridiculous kind of guy and _shut up, I do_. Especially if I’m tryin’ to get away with things like this.” He plucks at the front of what he’s wearing; looks like a vest he might’ve borrowed from Niall’s collection and in all fairness probably did.

“Hm,” Harry hums thoughtfully, leaning back to lay down next to him. “I think you pass. With flying colours.”

They’re quiet for a couple of seconds until he reaches over and then Louis squirms away.

“Ow!” he yelps, at the harsh tweak to his covered, but easily accessible nipple. “Fucker.”

Harry slides one arm under his head in a display of smug casualness, but his giddy giggle kind of ruins the picture. “Not today I haven’t.”

Louis rolls his eyes before closing them like that’ll stop Harry talking. They may make fun of his ways, but it’s never really deterred him at all. “Disgusting.”

“I seem to remember you loving it last night...”

“Go away.” he mutters firmly, “You’re wasting my tanning time.”

“Just ask Lou to top you up with the spray before tonight. Nine times out of ten, you usually do anyway. Also, it’s not that sunny today.”

“That’s it!” he sits bolt upright, risking being spotted by unseen eyes, and pushes at Harry’s hips to shove him away from his spot on the grass. “Bugger. Off.”

It’s even more infuriating when Harry grabs him by the wrists and then switches his grip to catch him around his waist, swimming in the slack sides of the vest as he pulls him out of sight again, giggling all the while. With their viewpoint only being the fleet of tourbus down the bottom of the bank instead of a building with further curious gazes, Louis still breathes in with slight surprise as Harry eases his body half over him with a grin. His fingers sneak onto Louis’ bare sides so he rolls his eyes again like he’s tolerating the manhandling and prays Harry doesn’t start something stupid like trying to tickle him. There’s no way they’d stay quiet and semi-hidden for long and they’re running out of time as it is. Louis’ certain he’s going to get Harry back for this. Maybe loudly turning up in a dusty record shop he spends literally hours perusing or beating him several times over at FIFA when they usually play as a team to thrash everybody else.

“Can I get a kiss now?” Harry asks sweetly, bringing Louis back from his revenge plans.

“No.” he replies, not caring that he sounds in a sulk and he’d try and folds his arms too if he weren’t being laid on. “Not when your big head’s in the way.”

“Lou,” Harry frowns, confused but continually amused by Louis’ mere presence. “That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“You’re blocking the _sun_ , Harry,” he emphasises, “with your massive head of curly fucking hair. The sun I’m trying to leech into my skin so I don’t look like I’m half dead or, worse, hungover.”

Harry normally relents. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’ll go. Can I kiss you somewhere else instead?”

Louis narrows his eyes, skeptical but calculating.

“You’ll get sun and Harry kisses...”

Louis wants to slap him upside the head for sounding like a molly-coddling, patronising twat but then on the other hand reasons that he’s never actually been able to deny Harry anything, least of all Harry kisses.

“Well, I suppose.” he says, after making him wait another few seconds. “Where then?”

Harry grins. “You’ll see.”

In the end, he gets a handful of them all at once – to his adam’s apple and his collarbone and two that make him hiss through his teeth.

“Don’t you know the meaning of the word ‘kiss’ – Jesus, Haz – ”

They both make room to survey Harry’s handiwork without moving away, Harry’s cheeks dimpling and Louis sighing deeply as he prods at the red mark on the soft of his belly - to the left of his bellybutton where a tiny crease forms when he’s bent over just so – and the other a matching, toothy splotch over two of his middle ribs on his right side.

“Great. And how am I meant to hide that one on the walk into the arena for soundcheck?” he asks, points at his rib and arches an eyebrow.

Harry leans forward to chastely kiss his raised brow bone, making it tingle as he keeps his mouth there to speak. “First, get back on the bus and get that red hoodie. _Then_ walk into soundcheck.”

“Smartarse.” he tosses back but his lips are starting to curl upwards despite his grumpiness. “Poopypants.”

“I’ll let that one slide,” Harry says and Louis snorts disbelievingly, “until tonight. After that, you’re mine, darling. All night, wherever we are. On the tourbus, in a hotel, I don’t really care.”

Louis bites into his lip as a broad hand slips between his legs, squeezing his thigh, whatever he can reach of his arse and then up to press his palm hard against his cock in his jeans. Harry’s warmth and body is gone in the next moment and he’s stood up in a more graceful movement than he’s ever achieved before, so Louis can only watch as he walks down the bank and.

Well, _and_ proceeds to stumble over the edge that meets the start of the tarmac. As Harry rights himself, Louis quickly stifles his natural reaction to giggle with his hand and falls backwards into the grass again; noticing begrudgingly that he’s feeling pleasantly flushed all over and it’s actually got nothing to do with any kind of sun from the sky.


End file.
